[s1e11] Fabrication ❲2024❳

The watch ticked louder, filling the silent lab, and Arthur realized with a jolt of terror that the hands weren't moving forward. They were counting down.

Arthur gasped, ripping the headband off. He leaned over the workbench, expecting to find a pile of scrap or a puddle of molten silver.

But as he looked closer, his blood ran cold. On the inside of the lid, where his father’s initials should have been, were his own. And underneath them, a date: tomorrow. [S1E11] Fabrication

A searing pain tore through his temples. He saw a flash of blinding white, a kaleidoscope of binary and bone. When the power finally surged back on, the lab was silent. The gel sphere had shattered, coating the workbench in a sticky, cooling film.

"All systems nominal," the lab’s AI, Hera, replied. "But I must remind you, Arthur: the simulation yielded a forty percent failure rate for the feedback loop." The watch ticked louder, filling the silent lab,

The cold fluorescent lights of the fabrication lab hummed with a low, rhythmic frequency that seemed to vibrate in Arthur’s teeth. It was 3:00 AM, the hour of desperate breakthroughs and catastrophic failures.

"Wait! No!" Arthur shouted, his mind still locked in the link. He leaned over the workbench, expecting to find

"Status check," Arthur murmured, his voice cracking from disuse.